Less that Mutual Feelings
by megan lycaon
Summary: fourth-former ginny weasley is in love with professor severus snape! snape may or may not want the "weasley package" :shiver: and cho chang suffers from such asian stereotypes as tiny, ickle boobies! oh dear! all this and a pantsless dennis creevey in a f


To begin with:  
  
disclaimer: i do not own harry potter (thank gods) or any other bit of jk rowling's world. although, i do have severus snape chained to my wall.  
  
*snape groans*  
  
he needed to lose some weight anyway.  
  
disclaimer the second (II): i tend to use "wot" instead of "what" and spell "realize" "realise" because my spell checker doesn't like my imitation thames.  
  
Disclaimer the third (III) I have no respect, rhyme or reason, when it comes to capital letters.  
  
Disclaimer the fourth (IV) Yes, I know this doesn't all fit in with the fifth potter book, but some of it does. So there.  
  
Now, on with it:  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
* * * * * *  
  
Less than Mutual Feelings  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
* * * * * *  
  
fifteen year old ron weasley knew it.  
  
he knew it and he hated it.  
  
he also tried to ignore it, but there it was:  
  
his sister, his only sister, drooling over the greasiest git at hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry.  
  
and it wasn't harry.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
* * * * * *  
  
ih.  
  
another year. another forty fresh-faced first form-ers at the front of the foyer.  
  
disgusting, the lot of them.  
  
sniveling. snot-faced. gods it made him sick.  
  
severus snape had to tear his eyes away from the new disaster that was about to be unleashed upon his house. but something like morbid curiosity kept his eyes trained on the eleven year old junior death eaters as they made their way to the slytherin table.  
  
must.. stop.. looking.. ah!  
  
he felt eyes upon him. staring at his nose most likely. he glared around the great hall, paying close attention to the faces at the griffindor table until..  
  
no.  
  
she was doing it again.  
  
fourth-year virginia weasley was gazing dreamily at him from across the room. their eyes met for a moment and she quickly glanced away, her cheek flushing a red to match her hair.  
  
severus had to stiffen himself in order to keep from smacking his forehead.  
  
it had been just at the end of last year that ginny weasley began to look at him that way.  
  
snape had always been annoyed with the effects of hormones, but it was then that he began to fear them.  
  
he feared that this young girl might be lusting, (as well as a child could,) after himself.  
  
and he feared he actually had them.  
  
because he hadn't had sex with a living soul in four bloody years.  
  
he'd had sex with a dead one just last vacation.  
  
but all he wanted to do to this little girl was-.. unspeakable.  
  
alright. he wanted to fuck her senseless.  
  
snape nibbled his banana pensively.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
* * * * * * september..  
  
"his eyes.. like two black pits of cold fire.. swarming with dark emotions unfathomable as his potions assignments."  
  
the ink of the poorly-written simile disappeared leaving a seemingly blank page in ginny weasley's diary.  
  
one day, she would die, but her memory would live on forever in these pages.  
  
she truly had no recollection of where that idea came from.  
  
ginny turned the page in her little black book.  
  
"my name is ginny weasley, as you should already know by the cover of this diary.  
  
i am fourteen years old, and am in love with potions master severus j. snape. the j stands for james, like this other person i had a schoolgirl's crush on. but he wasn't a man like severus.  
  
but enough about him. this is my story, and if you are reading this, i blame lucius malfoy entirely.  
  
gods. i really haven't much to say at the moment. tah!  
  
p.s: the air is full of spices, professor!"  
  
well, that was unenlightening.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
* * * * * *  
  
john william's theme for quiddich games was entirely based on the incompetent broom-flying of a then-first-year neville longbottom. the motif was frenzied and rushed as though the two teams were being chased by a swarm of hornets rather than two apathetic bludgers. the theme is annoying and should not have been written.  
  
but still, we find our hero in yet another quiddich game. not the first of the season, but somewhere in the middle. the teenage griffindor seeker was flying neck and neck trying to catch the snitch with ravenclaw seeker and leaky-fauceted vixen cho chang.  
  
judging by the name and sexy slant of her eyes, i'd say there weren't any wizarding schools in china.  
  
cho chang glanced away from the gold wing-tipped ball to meet the eyes of her opponent. they weren't angry or smug, (or even slanted!) but they were intense. there was a burning excitement behind them beyond just playing a game.  
  
these eye were piercing into hers.  
  
she blushed a little and glanced away..  
  
..only to see the griffindor seeker make that final air sprint and snatch the ball out of the air.  
  
Cho was mortified.  
  
griffindor house had won.  
  
ginny weasley had caught the snitch.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
* * * * * *  
  
cho sat alone in the quiddich teams' girl's lockerroom.  
  
she didn't want to be in there to hear the griffindor girl's triumphant 'whoops' as they got dressed.  
  
or to see Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell going at it. again.  
  
when she'd thought everyone'd gone, she'd crept in and found herself standing beside a mirror and giving herself the once-over.  
  
shit.  
  
she hated being asian.  
  
besides the minority thing, she was a seventh year and still an A cup.  
  
on the bright side, she looked very good in this spiffy blue uniform.  
  
she heard the lockerroom door open and clatter shut. she froze for a moment: who hadn't she seen enter the lockerroom?  
  
the stranger was whistling that blasted quiddich theme.  
  
oh.  
  
weasley.  
  
she scrambled to get her shirt back on. she'd already been humiliated once today on the quiddich pitch.  
  
chang pressed her back against the far wall, wanting to avoid making small talk with the small seeker.  
  
bested by a fourth year. really!  
  
cho was now faced diagonally (not diagon alley) from the mirror. and she suddenly realised she had a clear view of the reflection of ginny changing.  
  
chang glared at the unaware weasley.  
  
that bitch.  
  
using her eyes as a feint tactic.  
  
she wouldn't fall for that again.  
  
ginny removed her shirt.  
  
hm.. cho found she wasn't so small..  
  
certainly more than an A cup, she thought bitterly, pounding her fist against a locker door.  
  
fuck.  
  
ginny's little red ears seemed to perk up at the noise and she used her super-seeker senses to think of glancing at the mirror.  
  
once again, the girl's eyes stared right into cho's.  
  
like she said, she wouldn't fall for that again!  
  
blushing furiously, chang stomped out of the lockerroom, leaving a pleasently-smiling griffindor seeker as she began to unfasten her bra.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
* * * * * *  
  
cho chang mourned.  
  
in the shower, she cried for losing the quiddich game.  
  
as she got dressed, she cried over poor, tormented-for-being-himself harry potter.  
  
and as she surrounded herself with a circle of eighteen lit candles to celebrate the birthday of her dearly-departed lover, she cried for cedric diggory.  
  
after about an hour of staring at herself in the mirror to see if her eyes could match the intensity of one ginny weasley's, cho realised something quite disturbing:  
  
she had a thing for seekers.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
* * * * * *  
  
november..  
  
"i can bottle him, brew him, and let him put his stopper in me.."  
  
ginny watched the ridiculous homage to professor snape's monologue from her extremely-difficult-to-remember first year absorb itself into the depths of her journal's pages.  
  
"ginny weasley here," she wrote. "won quiddich today. found cho spying on me in the lockerroom. she has pretty eyes.  
  
kinda tiny boobs, though.  
  
i do love her hair, though. wish mine was black.  
  
well, cho cho cho. happy christmas or wotever it is they celebrate in china.  
  
oh yeah, they're atheists over there, aren't they? wonder if she believes in anything.  
  
well i believe in her.  
  
i believe in her tiny ickle boobs anyway! tee hee! *winks*  
  
well, tah.  
  
p.s: doma arigato, mr. robato!"  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
* * * * * *  
  
golden boy harry potter later found out about it.  
  
it wasn't so bad, really. it had potential to be rather.. interesting really.  
  
but when he'd found out, he'd been quite upset.  
  
to find out that cho chang was about at straight as lexi wishes meg white wasn't.  
  
whoever lexi was.  
  
to think, he'd spent two years of his very importanty boy who lived-y life crushing after a rainbow chaser.  
  
He would later have a very hard, uh, difficult, valentines day.  
  
*************  
  
why were the griffindors always scheduled with the slytherins for potions class, you might wonder.  
  
A perfectly sensible question.  
  
Unlike "why are there so many draco/ginny fics on the internet?" which is a silly question. The answer to that one is simple: people are idiots.  
  
The former question, however, is the sort of brilliant observation similar to when you first think to yourself, "diagon.. alley.. diagonally! OMG!"  
  
The answer lies within severus snape.  
  
Lucius get out of there!  
  
The snapish potions master of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry specifically puts the two houses together so he can kill two hippogryphs with one unforgivable: piss of the griffindors whilst spoiling the slytherins.  
  
The idea of seeing the hufflepuffs and griffindors working happily together in his classroom made him nauseous.  
  
Yet, it was right after lunch, and he found himself becoming increasingly nauseated during the slytherin/griffindor fourth years' session.  
  
"nameless fourth year slytherin number one?"  
  
"here."  
  
"nameless fourth year griffindor number one?"  
  
"::coo::"  
  
"take that boy to madam pomfrey, griffindor number two. He seems to have head pidgeons. And ten points from griffindor, number one, for bringing a potential hair-hazard into my dungeon. Go now!"  
  
"yes, sir.. ruddy bastaad. Come on, one."  
  
A few giggles are heard in the back. (a griffindor just whispered "snape's head is a hair hazard.")  
  
"::coo::"  
  
severus snape was having a hard enough time taking roll without the continually diseased nameless griffindor number one making such a racket. He was also feeling a bit off-balance. He felt as tho half of his head was being cursed out of existence.  
  
..because somebody won't stop staring at my bloody head. Why won't you die, miss weasley? Just die!  
  
that was all he wanted to scream at the dreamily gazing green-eyed griffindor sitting in the front row of his class. But, he was afraid his outburst would decrease his chances of getting laid. He just wanted some sex. He didn't want the entire "weasley package."  
  
He inwardly shivered at the memory of his last weasley package.  
  
Wot kind of a name for a boy is percy, anyway??  
  
**************  
  
December...  
  
"he tries not to look at me.. pretends not to see me, but I know. And I know he knows. Our love is stronger than dragonhide gloves."  
  
Ginny weasley never seemed to tire of this blasted journal-writing habit. It would bore the reader to death if it was ever found in the ashes. Severus forbid this story survived the fire.  
  
"gin here! Rummy, that is. Ha ha ha! J/k!!!  
  
boy it sure is cold in the castle in the winter! I want a nice stong potions master(bater!) to keep me warm! Tee hee!  
  
Yule ball's coming up again. I hope snapey asks me to dance. I want everybody to know about our secret relationship. Especially him!  
  
Well, it's getting late, and I promised I'd model my new underwear for Hermione. She's so nice to buy me all these cute thongs!  
  
Tah,  
  
Ginny snape Mrs. severus snape Virgina snape-weasley  
  
=) *****************************************************  
  
There's always a yule ball in fanfiction, right? Fellas, there was one yule ball in the four years of the canon hero harry potter's school career. Wot are the chances that the next year would have yet another?  
  
Well, these chances are apparently quite good, because our pervert!dumbledore is quite the fanfiction junkie.  
  
Meanwhile..  
  
"woooo! I'm not wearing any pants!" third-year dennis creevey was becoming quite the wanna-be fred/george weasley. A shame he sucked at it. Prancing about the griffindor common room half naked wasn't very weasley-like.  
  
Colin creevey took a picture. Apparently, a ravenclaw sixth-year had a muggle studies project concerning penis size in muggle borns.  
  
Well, that's wot she had said..  
  
Colin left his brother to frolic merrily over to some staring female first- formers when he saw ginny weasley descend her dormroom staircase.  
  
"ginny!" he called happily to her. He made his best attempt at asking her to the ball, but the girl mumbled something about a "waiting list" of hufflepuff lads and denied.  
  
this wasn't quite wot the photography-enthusiast had been expecting. She had always been a presumed default date. The female Neville, it seemed. He had been rejected by harry potter, ginny weasley, and Neville longbottom in the course of one evening.  
  
Like a fool, he had assumed that becoming bisexual would get him laid more often.  
  
How wrong he was.  
  
Speaking of our beloved bisexuals, I want to take a moment to show off this superb review my beta-reader, corpse child (who is not the bisexual tying these chapters together,) received for her apathetically femmeslashy fic "seeking compfort."  
  
Here is the review:  
  
"AnathdeMalfoy 2003-08-18 id # 43970 Aww! This is so lovely... so hot and sweet all at once... had me humming "All the Things She Said" all through it!  
  
Love & Serpents' Kisses, Anath."  
  
Ah, how nice of her to mention that beloved femmeslash favorite by R. Flisgos (Russian fake-lesbians in school girl outfits) tATu (ah, so here lies the bisexual chapter-tyer!).  
  
It is a popular song, really. I've seen many a Hermione impersonator frolic about to it.  
  
I don't have to tell you that witch pop sensation Weird Sisters, (with their voices like sweet spoiling milk in the sunshine,) covered "All the Things She Said" at the Yule Ball...  
  
.. because they didn't play the fockin song, okay? You ruddy fools! It's a worse cliché than the Yule Ball itself!  
  
And you know wot else? The weird sisters will not be performing at this years yule ball, because it is very difficult to dance to squealing, out-of- tune guitars and raspy, monotone 'lyrics' that are no more than recitations of an old winnie the pooh story collection sister nightshade found in knocturn alley. Come on, you didn't think the song "thanks for nothing" wasn't about eeyore?  
  
Ahem.  
  
Now meanwhile, our hero cho chang was crying in the prefect's bathroom... again. She was murmuring her favorite weird sisters song to herself as she carved words onto the back of her right hand with the razor in her left, and healed herself instantly with her wand with the left again.  
  
"and I'm all mixed up.. cornered and rushed.. say it's my fault.. want her so much.." it was barely audible, but yes, cho chang was submitting to cliché.  
  
Over and over she carved the same words on the back of her hand in the same place, where the skin was becoming increasingly raw. Ravenclaws were brilliant at charms, and cho was especially good at healing.  
  
On the otherhand, ravenclaws also tended to be obsessive-compulsive, (natural for most over-achieving types) and cho had been cutting for the last two and a half hours.  
  
"running through me head.. through my head.."  
  
Over and over again. She could hardly feel the blade touch her skin, and her "penmanship" became quite sloppy.  
  
Despite her brilliant healing, little by little, chang had lost quite a bit of blood. She hardly had the strength to grip her wand with the weakened hand. finally she fell limp against the back wall. Shining red on her right hand were the words:  
  
"I will not fall for ginny weasley."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Millicent bulstrode (oh, you know, the trollish fifth year slytherin,) knew it.  
  
The girl was notorious for knowing very little, but this she knew for sure:  
  
she was in love with severus snape.  
  
She stood in the corner of the ballroom, strategically placing herself out of sight of her beloved head of house, but able to make out a bit of his robes billowing near the punch table.  
  
What the awkwardly bulky young lady didn't know, besides quite a bit of anything, was that the large crowd of girls standing near her giggling and staring longingly in the same direction she was.  
  
Those poor anorexic girls must really want some punch. She pited them, really.  
  
"his hair isn't greasey, it's.. silky," she heard one girl sigh.  
  
"his nose doesn't look like a hook, it's just got character," another girl stated matter-of-factly.  
  
"so his skin is a bit pale. it just shows the pureness of his blood," that one must have been a fellow-slytherin.  
  
They couldn't be talking about.. Milly was beginning to get an idea that those girls weren't just after punch. ..Flitwick?  
  
A little off, dear.  
  
Like I said, the girl was a slytherin. a pure-blood just a few knuts short of a sickle. She just didn't realize that a quarter of the population of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardy was dying to profess their undying love for everyone's favorite greasy git.  
  
"care for a lemondrop, miss bulstode?" dumbledor offered.  
  
Millicent gaped at her headmaster for a few moments before she thought of a clever little retort.  
  
"I would be charmed sir,"  
  
"pardon me, miss bulstrode?"  
  
"it's so nice of you to think of the little people, professor," she smirked.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * **  
  
He could have been anything he wanted.  
  
The Death Eaters were nothing more than an after-hogwarts program. It was like the muggle army reserves. Serve one weekend a month and you get a scholarship and neat job. He was a death eater reserve, and they may not have given him any money, but he got a neat tattoo (not tATu, cho) and a nice job preparing antibiotoics.  
  
Well, poisons meant to kill people, but they would also make fabulous disinfectants. They cleaned you up well before completely destroying your bowels.  
  
Alright, so the job wasn't much to be proud of, but our beloved former- death-eater-with-a-mysterous-past, Severus Snape, found himself in his early forties, living in his old school, and now this:  
  
Potions Masters Severus Snape was chaperoning the Yule Ball. Again.  
  
Punch. Punch. Must have punch with lots of vodka.  
  
It was no substitute for human blood, but Snape was upset. He didn't know how Dumbledore always managed to talk him into this every goddamned year, but for this particular engagement, Snape decided to get Shite-Faced and piss on the rose bushes in the courtyard, (in hopes of warming up some snogging seventh years with his "special butterbeer.")  
  
Half-drunk or not, Snape was always a tight-arse. He seemed to loom over the entire student body, stiffening at how unbecoming those robes were on Michael Corner, (no one wears yellow, mikey, not even hufflpuffs!) and moving slightly by the force of the bass being emitted by the musician's enchanted turntables.  
  
After a few hours, and a few more drinks, Severus was just beginning to get drowsy when..  
  
DJ Enclaw laid the needle on Right Said Fred.  
  
"I'm too sexy for your love. Too sexy for your love. Love's going to leave meeeeeee,"  
  
Merlin, no. It was happening.  
  
Snape's neck twitched in the direction of the DJ's platform. He downed another cup of "punch."  
  
"Too sexy for my shirt so sexy it huuuurts,"  
  
Snape subconsciously reached for the collar of his shirt with his right hand, but immediately slapped it away with his left. For Merlin's sake, he'd only had six glasses and it usually took him seven to break into song.  
  
"To sexy for Milan London and Japan..."  
  
Snape took another shot, and then he took.. the stage!  
  
(yeah, lame.)  
  
"I'm a model if you know wot I mean, and I do my little turn on the catwalk, yeah, only the catwalk.."  
  
And step and step and pout. Snape had the entire routine figured out. He knew ever word and note. This was, afterall, his song.  
  
"and I shake my little tush on the catwalk.." that he did, singing along.  
  
The students all gathered around cheering. It was his moment of bliss. He had his song, he had a few units of alcohol in him, and he had ginny weasley's little hands down his pants.  
  
Wait, what???  
  
Severus awoke to find it was just a dream. He must have had too much to drink, and had passed out in the rose garden before had gotten to "water" any of the plants. So there he was laying on his back behind a rose bush, with his pants unzipped, and, yes, fifteen year old Virginia weasley's hands were still down his pants.  
  
Wait, what???  
  
"Bloody hell, gerroff!" Snape grunted, pushing the little girl off of him. "And, wot, may I ask, do you think you were doing? Seventy points from griffindor!"  
  
The girl just stared at him with an impish look on her face. She pointed to her left wrist and winked at him.  
  
What, was she going to blackmail him with his death eater tattoo? Blackmail him into doing what, exactly? Well, when you wake up with a seeker's hands in your pants, you should already know they're not looking for the golden snitch.  
  
(no bludgers for you, pervies!)  
  
(Why were there so many weasleys that played quiddich, you might be wondering. Had snape gotten the weasley package from all of them? You may never know. But I shall tell you this: not ron, fred, or bill. No one likes fred, that's all. And Charlie weasley just loved to slay snape's dragon.)  
  
ahem, but back to the story at.. hand..  
  
while deep in his weasley, reverie, the first female to touch snape in a decade was touching him, again.  
  
"dammit, girl!" he exclaimed, pushing her off again. "Can you not see I am through with you? I don't care if the school knows I was a death eater," could have been worse. They could have found out about him and lupin during their school days...  
  
snape inwardly shivered and wished he had some whiskey.  
  
Ginny handed him a hip flask she had probably borrowed from professor moody. It wasn't whiskey, but some sort of butterbeer, red wine, and gin mixture. The girl must have taken a bit of everything from her parents' liquour locker.  
  
Focking teenagers..  
  
He handed the flask back and watched ginny take a swig..  
  
And immediately pass out.  
  
"Focking teenagers!" Snape groaned, scooping her into his arms. Now he had to take her to the hospitol wing. What a night.  
  
Walking down the path with the young girl in his arms, he exchanged glances with Professor McGonagal, who was carrying Colin Creevey in the opposite direction.  
  
"Good evening, professor," he muttered as he passed.  
  
"Good evening, Severus," she replied over her shoulder.  
  
Best not get involved, They thought simultaneously.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
In a distant wing of Hogwarts castle, cho chang had just opened her sexay slanted eyes to glare at the clock.  
  
"It's 11:45 in the evening," the clock told her. "And I'd thank you not to stare,"  
  
Some of these school clocks were bitchy.  
  
Wait, 11:45?  
  
Oh no...  
  
Cho realized she had missed most of the dance. How had she fallen asleep?  
  
Then, it dawned on her where she was:  
  
The hospital wing.  
  
She must have passed out in the bathroom. But wait, that meant someone had brought her here. Had they seen the cuts on her hand? She assumed they had, or else there wouldn't be bangages on it. Then they'd have to have read the words.. the name...  
  
She unraveled her bandaged right hand and saw in a clear read scab:  
  
"I will not fall for grinagaschnaga.." or something similar.  
  
She must have passed out midsentence!  
  
Cho was never so happy to have fallen unconscious in her life.  
  
Her moment of glee was quickly filled with guilt. How could she be happy when her poor Cedric was dead? And harry, oh, she'd not gotten to dance with him like she'd been planning to, (she'd already kissed him for gods sakes).  
  
She was about to start crying when the entryway was flooded with torchlight as a figure stalked into the wing. Cho realized it wasn't one figure, but a large figure, Professor Snape, carrying a smaller one with a mop of red hair.  
  
It was the bright-eyed seeker whom Cho had fallen in love with.  
  
No, the other one.  
  
No, the other one!  
  
No, it's not Malfoy either, jeezy creezy!  
  
Ron, er, Ginny? Yes, indeed.  
  
Snape laid Ginny down on the four-poster next to Cho's.  
  
"Now you rest here," Snape whispered to the newest unconscious addition to the hospital wing (they were quite common at hogwarts). The girl's hands were still twitching a bit.  
  
Glancing towards Cho, the only other person in the ward, to make sure she was asleep (her eyes were no small it was impossible to tell that she was watching his every move,) Snape placed the delicate hands back into his pants to let her finish him off.  
  
Ginny would probably have never been so unhappy to have fallen unconscious in her life.  
  
After a few minutes, Snape was spent. He buttoned up his pants, (everything on his clothes have buttons!!) and with that, swooped out of the room and set out to make himself a hangover-reducing serum.  
  
.Leaving the curiously curling and irresistibly ill-guarded fingers of young Ginny Weasley alone with a fractionally frustrated Cho Chang.  
  
Cho was never so happy to have a lover who had fallen unconscious in her life.  
  
Needless to say, everyone got what they wanted that chilly Yule evening, even if a few slept through it, a few were half-drunk, a few didn't get to hear "All the Things She Said" playing in the background, and a few were forced to take refuge in Colin Creevey's loins.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Almost January..  
  
"Think I drank all that shit/ tho my hip flask is lost/ if I look at you strangely/ it's only because/ being with me seems to've opened your eyes/ and since they're so damned slanted that's a bit of a surprise"  
  
ginny weasley was a bit hungover, but, much to the reader's dismay, she still managed to update her journal. She began with a cheap parody of everyone's favorite weird sister's cover. don't ask how the narrator knows the words well enough to make fun of them. Anyway,  
  
"Woke up this morning with a major headache. Don't really know wot happened last nite, but I found myself laying with my head on one of Cho's ickle boobies. (Clothed thank the gawds!)  
  
"I remember sharing a moment with Severus in the rose garden, but I'm afraid I had to break it off. (the relationship, that is!) Yes, I'd prefer to be single at the moment.  
  
"Altho, Michael Corner did look rather sexay in those yellow dress robes, I remember.. or I think I remember..  
  
"I dunno. It's a whole new year and shit. Think I'll go get possessed by Voldemort's sexay younger self or something..  
  
tah,  
  
Ginny Weasley.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
* * * * * *  
  
Yeah, it's over.  
  
(the end) 


End file.
